by John Peel
‘And no doubt they’ll be waiting ahead of us, waiting to mow us down,’ the Doctor added, a curious twinkle in his eye.
‘Then we’d best get out of here,’ Bret snapped, moving away from the flames. As Katarina and Steven moved to follow him, the Doctor held up his hand.
‘No, no – I think we should go this way.’ He gestured to the west, along the front of the flames.
‘Are you crazy?’ Bret exploded. ‘That’s the way to the Dalek city!’
‘Of course,’ the Doctor replied, rather smugly. ‘That’s the last place they’ll expect us to go! Use your head, my boy they won’t have started a fire that could engulf their rocket fuel, now, will they? Ummm? On the other hand, they will be waiting for us if we flee in front of the flames. If we’re nimble, we can nip across the path before the flames cut us off and make it to the city. And I expect that most of the Daleks normally on duty in the city will be positioned over there in front of the fire, waiting for us. It might even make our purloining of a ship considerably easier.’
A large smile broke across the agent’s face. ‘Yeah... good thinking, Doc.’
The Doctor smiled also, with affected modesty. ‘As you come to know me, you’ll find most of my suggestions bear the mark of genius.’ Then, abruptly annoyed, he stabbed a finger into Bret’s chest. ‘And don’t call me Doc!’
Mavic Chen stood in the reception lounge, looking out over the space-port. His magnificent Spar dominated the scene, and he felt a great deal of pride in it. As he watched, the umbilicals that had been used to refuel and reprovision the ship withdrew. It would shortly be time for him to return to the Earth and to act as though everything was fine until the Daleks struck... The horizon was a dull ruby colour, as the flames spread through the jungle.
‘The magnificence of flames,’ he murmured. ‘Primitive, but efficient.’
Zephon regarded the sight also, and snorted. ‘You, too, would have used ultrasonics?’
‘If I had nothing better.’
The Master of the Fifth Galaxy turned his gaze on to the Guardian of the Solar System. ‘The meeting must start soon,’ he observed. ‘You appear so keen to be a model delegate one might think you were afraid of the Daleks.’
Chen sighed inwardly. How had this overbearing fool ever become the tyrant of a whole galaxy? He had no sense of subtlety or refinement or wariness. ‘A dangerous statement,’ he suggested, silkily. ‘Remember where you are.’
Zephon snorted again. ‘Is the Solar System so far behind they believe the Daleks need to eavesdrop?’
What a fool! Naturally the Daleks would be monitoring them! ‘Of course, not,’ Chen lied.
‘The Daleks needed me,’ Zephon boasted, striking at his chest. ‘Without my help, they would never have got the co-operation of the Masters of Celation and Beaus. We are on equal terms!’
‘Really?’ Chen asked, in feigned wonder. ‘Three galaxies for the price of one!’
‘I do not understand you.’
That was quite painfully obvious! Abruptly, Chen wearied of mocking this idiot. ‘Perhaps I’m one who knows my place?’ he suggested. ‘Are you coming in to take your seat?’ Stung by Chen’s words, Zephon shook his head emphatically. ‘They will not start the meeting without me,’ he stated. ‘I feel like waiting... here .’
How petty! Chen shrugged; let Zephon incur the annoyance of the Daleks. He himself would simply bide his time, until the moment was ripe...
Bret led the party swiftly through the trees, for once not too worried about the roving vargas – they, too, would be fleeing the flames for safety, as fast as their stumps could carry them. To their side as they ran there was the blaze, the smoke, the smell and the crackling sounds of the spreading fire. From time to time, trees would collapse, showering sparks and smoke into the air. Twice, the small party had to dive for cover to avoid Dalek patrols, but the fire was on their side; the Daleks would be unable to use their infra-red optics, as the fire would drown any tracks left by the fleeing party.
Eventually, they came to the edge of the jungle, where the space-port began. Abruptly, Bret ground to a halt, and stared at the waiting ship in astonishment.
There was no mistaking that huge, circular craft, the fins about the ship, and the array of antennae. Every line breathed luxury and refinement, and only one man Bret knew had a ship like that. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he exclaimed.
‘You know that ship?’ the Doctor asked.
‘Of course! It belongs to Mavic Chen, the Guardian of the Solar System!’
‘Well, you should be able to fly it, then,’ the Doctor observed.
Bret couldn’t find the words. ‘Yes, but...’
‘That’s the one we’ll go for,’ the Doctor informed Steven and Katarina. They nodded, and Steven started to inch forward to check the path.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Bret muttered. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’ The trouble was that there was a hollow pit in his stomach that told him, with agonizing clarity, that it did make sense – a terrible, dirty kind of sense.
‘Stop complaining,’ Steven hissed.
‘But you don’t understand,’ Bret explained. ‘He’s the ultimate power in the Solar System. What’s he doing here on Kembel, with the Daleks?’
‘We’ll worry about that later,’ the Doctor suggested. ‘Right now, you had better stick to thinking of a way to steal his ship.’ The Doctor tiptoed forward to the end of the wall that they were hiding behind, and scanned the open space carefully.
Some twenty feet away, a figure in a dark cloak was staring at the line of fire on the horizon. The Doctor ducked back, quickly, but as he did so, his cane knocked against the metal wall.
Zephon was lost in his thoughts of conquest and pillage, barely aware of the flames in the sky. It would be grand to have more worlds to loot and to grind beneath his army’s heel, and to – he wrenched his thoughts back to the present. Was that a sound he had heard? He looked down the wall of the building towards the jungle, but saw nothing. Probably just a technician or a Dalek. Still, thinking about Chen’s words made him wonder if perhaps the Daleks were spying on him. He moved slowly towards the edge of the wall, intending to take a swift look round, just to check.
A pair of arms shot out and dragged him forwards, and then something hit his head hard, and he lost consciousness.
Steven pulled Zephon’s body round the corner, as Bret reversed his pistol once again and replaced it in his holster. The Doctor peered down at the figure, an excited gleam in his eye. ‘He must be one of the delegates from the outer galaxies,’ he observed.
‘Well, he won’t sound an alarm now,’ Bret added. ‘Let’s see about getting out to the Spar .’
‘Just a moment,’ the Doctor said, holding his arm. ‘Don’t be so hasty, young man. This just might be our chance to discover what the Daleks’ plans really are.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Really, for an intelligence agent, you are remarkably stupid!’ the Doctor snapped. ‘What I am suggesting is that I adopt this creature’s rather outlandish costume and try to penetrate the conference.’
All three of his companions stared at him in horror. Steven was the first to voice his thoughts. ‘That’s suicide, Doctor!’
‘It’s out of the question!’ Bret added.
‘It would. be a dangerous endeavour indeed,’ Katarina finished.
In his usual fashion, the Doctor ignored them all, and began to tug at the fastenings on Zephon’s form-enveloping cloak. ‘Listen to me, all of you,’ he hissed. ‘Do what you can to secure that rocket ship.’ As an afterthought, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the cassette recorder he had discovered earlier, and handed it to Bret. ‘Here, I found this. I don’t know if it’s relevant or not, but do look after it, umm?’
Bret glanced at it in surprise – an Earth scout-ship issued warning recorder! ‘Where did you find this?’
‘In the jungle, of course. Stop asking silly questions.’ The cloak had finally come free of the alien, a
nd the Doctor began to don it, noting with satisfaction that it was almost perfect fit. ‘Steven, fetch some of those creepers from the trees and tie this creature up.’ He then turned to Bret. He was starting to like the young man’s direct ways, if not his occasional lack of imagination; then again, not everyone could be up to his own intellectual standards, and he had to make do with whatever tools he had to hand. ‘I want you to give me enough time to penetrate that meeting and find out what’s going on. Then I shall head back and join you on the spaceship.’
‘And how long will that take?’
‘I’ll leave that to your judgement.’ The Doctor had finished fastening up the cloak, and even Bret had to admit that he did look a good deal like the alien that Steven was now trussing up. The black cloak fitted the Doctor well, covering him to the neck. The hood on the cloak should complete the disguise, once the Doctor drew it over his head. The Doctor tapped Bret’s arm, and said, quietly: ‘Of course, if you hear any kind of uproar, you’ll have to go off without me.’ Bret began to protest, but the old man held up a hand. ‘Please, spare me all of that. It is more important for you to warn the Earth than to save me.’
‘You’re a very brave man,’ the agent observed.
‘Rubbish, my boy, rubbish,’ the Doctor snapped, testily. ‘I’m only doing what has to be done.’
Bret grinned. ‘I like you better all the time, Doc.’
‘Yes, and I’d like you better if you remembered to stop calling me Doc!’
The conference room was almost ready now. The Black Dalek scanned the room, and noticed with irritation that one of the delegates was not present. ‘Where is the Master of Zephon?’
Chen smiled unctuously. ‘He will be here,’ he said. ‘Eventually.’
As Chen had expected, the Dalek did not take this news too well. It spun its eye-stick towards a subordinate. ‘Search for him!’
Watching the Dalek glide away on its task, Mavic Chen felt a deep satisfaction. Capital! The more trouble he could stir up between the Daleks and these ridiculous allies of theirs, the better. When everything was finished, there would be that much more left for him to grasp...
The Doctor watched his three young companions scurry towards the large starship on the launch pad, and nodded with satisfaction. Now it was time for him to make his move. He had managed to conceal his own unease about his foolish plan from the others, but he was not at all sure he was being very wise. Still, they had to know what the Daleks were planning, and this was their best chance. Pushing his fears down, the Doctor pulled the hood over his head, and started walking towards the doorway to the building.
The door hissed open, and a Dalek glided out. The eye-stick spun to examine him. The Doctor swallowed instinctively, and hoped that his disguise was as effective as he had believed. If the Dalek suspected his identity for a second, his life would be forfeit.
‘Delegate of Zephon,’ the Dalek grated, ‘the meeting is about to begin.’
The Doctor waved his hand, and the Dalek spun about and led the way into the city. As he entered, the Doctor seized his chance to look around. The walls and floors were all constructed of metal, since the Daleks found this easiest to travel over. It also served to carry auxiliary power for their units, in that strange form of static electricity they had mastered centuries before on their home world of Skaro. These Daleks could move freely about without needing metal below them, thanks to solar panels about their mid-sections, but they still constructed their buildings of pure metal.
One large window faced out at the space-port, but there was no one in the room now who might see Bret, Steven and Katarina as they crossed the open space to the Spar . The Dalek led the Doctor into a short corridor, and from there into a large, dimly lit room. Some twenty feet away, a meeting table was illuminated. About one side was the Black Dalek and several of its minions.
The Black Dalek! This had to be important, then, for the Black Dalek was second in the Dalek hierarchy, and rarely left the planet Skaro. Now, more than ever, the Doctor knew he had to discover what was happening here. ‘You seem lost, representative Zephon,’ said Mavic Chen. The Doctor recalled seeing him land in the Spar , and there was no doubt now of his identity. ‘Here is your place, next to me.’
The Doctor didn’t dare risk speaking, so he grunted in reply, and moved to the lectern that the traitor had pointed to. Glancing around, the Doctor recognized no more than two of the other species present. These were beings from the outer galactic groups indeed!
The Black Dalek had had enough of delays. ‘Representatives,’ it stated, ‘I have important news. The manufacture of the Time Destructor has now been completed.’
By the sighs and excited looks on the face of the other delegates, the Doctor realized he was the only one who had no idea what a Time Destructor was. Still, it sounded ominous enough, and given the Dalek capacity for inventiveness when it came to mass destruction and murder, it was certainly a weapon to be reckoned with.
Clearly, the Dalek was pleased with the effect its words had had. ‘It lacks only its Taranium core to activate it. Mavic Chen will speak.’
A born politician, Chen could never resist the chance for a speech. He took from his lectern a small wooden box, about ten inches long, and five on either side, and then stepped out towards the large map of the Solar System. ‘As your most recent ally and the newest member to stand in this great universal council, I am delighted to be able to make to significant a contribution to our conquest of the Universe!’ Chen held the box up for them all to see. ‘I now present you with the core of the Time Destructor. A full emm of Taranium, the rarest mineral in the Universe! It has taken fifty Earth years to accumulate even this small amount.’
Trantis looked annoyed. ‘If it has taken so long for the Solar System to produce it, why was not one of the outer Galaxies asked to provide it?’
What an imbecile! Chen smiled politely, though. ‘As the Daleks know, Taranium can only be found on one of the dead planets of the Solar System.’ The Doctor knew that there was much truth in this. The Daleks had spent almost a century gathering enough Taranium from their empire to power a time machine that they had sent after him a short while back. With the aid of his companions, Ian, Barbara and Vicki, the Doctor had managed to capture and destroy that time machine, crippling the Dalek time researches. Now, however, it was apparent that they were using Chen to gain access to further supplies of Taranium.
‘Without this,’ Chen continued, ‘the Time Destructor is useless! All the plans made here could not succeed. I, Mavic Chen, give you the core of the Time Destructor!’ With these words, he opened the box, and slid from the casing the core itself – a mechanism of shining metal, lattices of crystal and a faint glow from the restrained power of the raw Taranium.
The Doctor felt a chill clear down to his soul as all of the Daleks turned their gaze towards the core. What evil plans did they have for that small device?
The pilot swung about in his chair at the controls of the Spar . This was a dream of a ship! He loved being here, in the heart of the craft. The computers augmented his own skills perfectly, making the craft a joy to fly. He hated having to stay even a short while on planets, and longed to be back in space again, dancing between the stars! Well, with the reprovisioning now complete, they could take off soon as Mavic Chen returned from his mysterious meeting.
The engineer who had been checking the circuitry waved cheerfully as he left the room. A moment later, he backed in again, to the pilot’s surprise. Then the reason for this odd move became quite apparent as Bret Vyon entered, and waved his pistol across the room. The pilot recognized the SSS uniform and stayed very still. He knew that agents were trained to shoot first and forget the niceties of life.
‘Very sensible,’ Bret approved. ‘Now, come over here and join your friend.’ The pilot did as he was told, moving slowly and carefully, with his hands raised. Two more people – a young man and a pretty, bewildered-looking girl – entered the control room.
Steven whistled in
appreciation. ‘Hey, this is a bit of all right! Quite a lot different from the scouts I used to fly!’
‘Really?’ Bret asked, with interest. ‘What sort of craft were they?’
Steven abruptly realized that this was the year AD 4000 – considerably after the period of time that he came from. ‘Oh, it was before your time,’ he said, quickly. To cover his mistake, he picked up a bale of wire and a pair of clippers. ‘Right,’ he ordered the two captives, ‘turn round and hold your hands together.’
With a groan, Zephon finally woke again. His head hurt from the blow he had been struck, and he discovered that his arms and feet had been firmly tied. Obviously, there were still some of the intruders alive, and he had been attacked by them. Astonishment that they had dared to harm him was replaced by annoyance. He had to sound the alarm, and quickly!
The Daleks had instructed all the delegates where the various alarm points about the city were located. They believed in being cautious. Zephon knew that the nearest was just around the corner. He managed to struggle to a sitting position, and then pressed his back against the wall. Carefully, using his arms as best he could, he managed to push himself up against the wall, and eventually was standing.
Panting, he managed to jump a few inches forward. It would take a while, but he would be able to reach the alarm button, at least. Another jump, then another.
The tension in the conference room was electric now. Chen had placed the core down on the table, and it gleamed under the lights, drawing all eyes irresistibly towards it. Chen was enjoying the attention. ‘I have one final question,’ he purred, ‘and I am certain that we will all be grateful if the Supreme Dalek will answer it.’ He paused for effect, and then asked: ‘The date of the Earth’s destruction?’
The Black Dalek looked directly at him. ‘In Earth time,’ it stated, ‘one month from today.’
A broad smile of pleasure crossed Chen’s features at this news. Soon, soon now...
Suddenly, the whole building was racked with an alarm klaxon sounding. Everyone jumped, and the Daleks began to spin about, seeking out what was wrong.